Flourless Orange & Almond Cake

Today: a confession. I love weird recipes. Anything that involves an unexpected method or bizarre ingredient immediately catches my attention. I remember years ago watching slack-jawed as Nigella Lawson confidently boiled a whole ham in Coca-Cola and thinking first “Is she bananas?” and then not long after, “I have got to try that.” Honestly, I wasn’t even that excited about making bagels until I found out that it involved poaching the raw dough in boiling water before baking—but when I did find out, I couldn’t wait to get started.

I’m not exactly sure why I’m drawn to these sorts of strange, seemingly-illogical recipe components, but generally I have a feeling that if a trusted source is telling you to do something crazy with your ingredients, it’s often because there’s a good reason behind it. Also, I think of my sister’s often-cited observation of me, characteristically made through gritted teeth: “You’ve always got to be different, don’t you?”

An American in London

My internal celebration clock went off early in the morning on Sunday. I sprang out of bed and started to contemplate what sort of feast I could prepare that would compliment my jubilant mood. I should note that something similar happens in the third week of November as well. I wanted messy, drippy sandwiches, piquant coleslaw, creamy potato salad and a home-baked crumble for dessert. And fireworks. And margaritas. And general drunken, patriotic merriment. In short, by 7:30am, my expectations for the day ahead were through the roof.
It wasn't long before I realized that I was in the wrong country to celebrate American holidays--i.e., anywhere outside of the US. The kicker: I would have to go to work on Monday while friends and family would be kicking it poolside back home. Sad face.

Never one to be deterred by as minor an issue as international borders, I set about making a 4th of July feast for a few hungry friends regardless of it being neither the 4th (but close enough) nor being in the correct hemisphere (again, close enough).

Basil Love

I maintain that I am not--nor have I ever been-- a fan of mayonnaise. Its gloopy, gelatinous consistency always makes me shudder when I watch beloved friends and family members enthusiastically spreading their sandwiches with the stuff. I just sit there thinking cautiously, "Are you sure you want to do that?" Needless to say, I'm a mustard girl all the way. There is, however, one particular loophole in my one-woman campaign against mayonnaise and that, my friends, is the mighty aioli.

Aioli is in a completely different realm, a different stratosphere if you will, to the humble old mayo. Good aioli is a somewhat thinner consistency, infinitely silkier, deliciously dippable and much more flavorful than its distant relative. It's balanced, but packs a punch and can lend its charms an incredibly wide range of dishes. I can imagine that this aioli would be completely awesome in a BLT, on a summery tomato salad, or a potato salad while I'm at it. It would be heavenly alongside some nice grilled fish, calamari, steamed artichoke or asparagus...I could go on. Really, this recipe is a vehicle for basil--lovely, fragrant, delicate, summery basil. A clove of garlic and a good squeeze of lemon compliment the basil nicely and round out the flavor, but really, the basil is the star here.

DIY Bruschetta

So, a funny thing happened to me today. I decided that rather than continue to sift idly through and admire the many blogs that I regularly read, I really ought to stop neglecting this one. It’s not that I haven’t been cooking—quite the contrary. It’s just that I haven’t been telling that many people about it.

This one today is really nothing special in terms of a recipe. In fact, it isn’t really a recipe at all; more of a suggestion of how to eat. I was inspired by a) a freeform recipe for various bruschette from Chad Robertson’s amazing Tartine Bread (but who isn’t inspired by that?), b) a week in Italy that completely reignited my love of bread and c) my growing (somewhat worrying) love for eating food off of a wooden board.

The best combination of these ingredients turned out to be the goat’s cheese and balsamic roasted carrots with fresh basil. But I probably shouldn’t mention that since part of the fun we had in eating this meal was in testing out various combinations of roasted vegetables, fresh herbs and spreads. Yes, we had some fresh tomatoes with basil and olive oil, but I won't bother with that. Just gather all the components together and have at it.

Mixed Grilled Vegetable Bruschetta

1 loaf of day old bread (sourdough in my case), sliced thickly

1 bulb fennel, cut into ½ inch slices

2 carrots, sliced into ½ inch coins

2 small zucchini, sliced into ½ inch strips

1 small bunch asparagus

1 handful each of fresh basil, parsley and coriander

1 ball fresh mozzarella

½ a round of goat’s cheese

Olive oil for roasting

1 clove of garlic

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F/170 degrees C. Place all the vegetables on a baking sheet and dress generously with olive oil, a splash of balsamic vinegar and season with salt and pepper. Roast for about 35-45 minutes until everything is going brown at the edges (you may want to flip things halfway through the cooking time). When the veggies are done remove them to a serving platter and, turn the oven down to 300F/140C. Put the slices of bread directly onto the oven rack for about 4 minutes. You don’t want to toast the bread, just dry it out a little so that it soaks up all the good stuff. When the bread is just on the verge of toasting, pull it out and immediately rub one side with the raw garlic clove. Place the bread garlicky side down onto the baking sheet you roasted the vegetables on so that it soaks up a little of the leftover olive oil and seasonings.

Serve on a board with the cheeses and herbs and help yourself. No utensils required.

Warm Bulgur Wheat Salad with Poached Egg

I started out with the best intentions. A delicious, healthy, and flavorful lunch was what I was after. And then I opened the door to the fridge and found some leftover pancetta that needed to be used. So, granted, the calorie count shot up, but I’m not sorry. Not only did I succeed in two out of the three initial requirements I had for my lunch, but I also succeeded in ending up with a clean refrigerator.

I often use bulgur wheat as a main starch when I am sick to death of couscous and/or pasta and/or bread. It has a great bite to it and its wheaty flavor stands out in a way that other starches blend in. It’s a cinch to make and is delicious hot or cold. Although I had the time to poach an egg separately today to lay over top this dish, I have also had success cracking an egg into the hot bulgur and stirring to cook, which gives the finished product a nice, creamy texture without everything sticking together.

All in all, a very successful lunch for a very successful day off.

Warm Bulgur Wheat Salad with pancetta, mushrooms, tomatoes, spinach and poached egg - (serves 2)

Ingredients:
200g bulgur wheat, cooked according to packet instructions and drained of any excess liquid
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
¼ cup mixed seeds (use any combination of pumpkin, sesame, linseed, sunflower etc.)
Bag of baby spinach
Punnet of mushrooms, sliced (I used chestnut mushrooms here)
2 large shallots, diced
1/3 cup pancetta, cubed
Pinch dried chilies
2 eggs

Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F/200 degrees C. Place the cherry tomatoes cut side up in a small roasting pan and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast for about 20 minutes until the edges begin to char.

In a large saucepan over medium heat, warm up a few tablespoons of olive oil and toss in the pancetta. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the pancetta begins to brown, then toss in the shallots. When the shallots are softened and translucent, add the sliced mushrooms, the chilies if desired and a pinch of salt. Continue to sauté and stir occasionally.

Toast the seeds in a dry frying pan over low heat, taking care to toss them and not to let them burn—this should take a total of about 5 or 6 minutes. Place a small saucepan of water over medium low heat for the poached eggs. Add the spinach to the pancetta mushroom mixture, turn off the heat and cover to allow it to wilt.

Assemble the toasted seeds, roasted tomatoes and cooked bulgur. When the spinach is wilted (it may take a stir or two to accomplish this), add the tomatoes, bulgur and toasted seeds to the saucepan and toss together.

Drop the cracked eggs gently into their simmering water and allow them to poach about 2-3 minutes then fish them out with a slotted spoon.

Plate the warm bulgur salad on two plates, finish with a final sprinkling of toasted seeds and a twist of black pepper. Top each dish with a poached egg. Enjoy your day off.

Marshmallows

Never mind that I second guessed myself at every turn during this recipe. Also, never mind the fact that while I was making these I was entirely certain that if I were to spill some of the molten hot sugar syrup down myself, no one would have been around the house to hear me scream, let alone take me to a hospital.

Because frankly, all things considered, it was worth it. There aren’t many recipes that actually make you feel like a kid again, or let you so vividly recall how fun it can be to get messy.

Before embarking on the making of these marshmallows, I wasn’t entirely certain that the end product would be much different from the countless marshmallow experiences I’ve had to date. Then, when I actually ate one, I realized that I’d clearly never had a homemade marshmallow before. The texture is so much more satisfying—chewy yet airy—unlike the over-dried packaged ones. And while it was a bit unnerving working with things I generally tend to avoid (i.e., liquid glucose and cornstarch), the process itself was not inherently difficult.

Essentially, marshmallows are just an Italian meringue with gelatin added to the syrup to allow the mixture to hold its shape once it’s dried.
And if you know me at all, you know exactly what I did once they were done…

Later that day, when I had some friends over for dinner, what had previously been a perfectly polite meal turned into a competition of who could make the biggest mess of themselves when I unveiled these for dessert…

And then this happened…

Proust, you can keep your madeleines—I’ll take the marshmallow.

Marshmallows (adapted from James Martin’s Great British Winter Cookbook)
Ingredients:
650g Sugar
2 Tbsp. liquid glucose
3 Egg whites
14 Leaves of gelatin
2 tsp Vanilla extract
3 Tbsp Powdered sugar
3 Tbsp Cornstarch
Special Equipment:
Electric mixer
Candy thermometer

Directions: Sift together the powdered sugar and cornstarch. Grease a 10x10-inch baking pan with cooking spray then dust with the cornstarch mixture. Soak the gelatin leaves in 150mL cold water. Pour the sugar, liquid glucose and 200mL water into a heavy-bottomed saucepan, place over medium-high heat and insert your candy thermometer. The sugar mixture needs to come up to 127 degrees C/260 degrees F (also known as hardball stage)—this will take about 10 minutes. While the sugar is cooking, beat the egg whites in a large heat-proof bowl with an electric mixer until soft peaks form. When the sugar syrup reaches hardball stage, remove it from the heat. Very carefully, slide in the softened gelatin and its water—the mixture will bubble up, so don’t burn yourself. Stir to dissolve the gelatin. With the mixer running, slowly pour the syrup into the egg whites in a small stream, taking care not to cook the eggs. When the syrup is added, the mixture will deflate slightly, but continue mixing for about 10 minutes longer until it starts to stiffen up again. When the mixture holds a soft peak, scrape into the greased and dusted baking dish and allow to cool completely, about an hour. Dust a kitchen surface well with some of the cornstarch mixture, and then tip the marshmallow onto it. Dust a knife and cut into cubes, rolling each one individually so it is no longer sticky, but patting away excess cornstarch. Allow to dry a further hour before storing in an airtight container.

Lemon Yogurt Almond Cake

I don’t know why I waited so long between making this delicious cake and telling you all about it. It may have something to do with the fact that every time I thought about sitting down and writing about this cake, I was suddenly overcome with the desire to make it again and have some rather than just talk about it. The acidity of the lemon zest and the cool tang of the yogurt work so well together; and the combination improves once the nuttiness of the ground almonds gets involved on the back of your palate. Once again, we have here a recipe adapted from a lemon yogurt cake from Ina “start with four sticks of butter” Garten, but in this case, the moniker is undeserved since this ain’t no pound cake. It’s really light and achieves a nice balance between moist, sweet and airy. Combine that with the bright citrusy kick which I so dearly love, and you’ve got a hit on your hands.

Perhaps in future attempts (and there will be several I am sure), I might make this look a little sexier with a powdered sugar-based glaze on top rather than the syrupy version I did on this one. And it would certainly be possible to play around with pan shapes and sizes, or even get crazy and use other types of citrus like lime, blood orange or even grapefruit. Or I could just stop tinkering and make it again already…

Lemon Almond Yogurt Cake
Ingredients:
1 cup flour
1 cup finely ground almonds
2 tsp baking powder
Pinch salt
1 cup plain yogurt (Ina said to use whole, but I used low fat—you be the judge)
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
Zest of two lemons
1 teaspoon almond extract
½ cup vegetable oil.
For the syrup:
Juice of two lemons
¾ cup sugar

Directions: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F/ 180 degrees C. Butter and flour an 8x8 baking tin and line the bottom with parchment. In a medium sized bowl, combine the flour, ground almonds, baking powder and salt and set aside. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs and sugar until yolks are lightened, just about a minute or two. Add the yogurt, vegetable oil, lemon zest and almond extract and whisk again to combine. Add the dry ingredients and stir until just incorporated. Pour batter into prepared pan and bake 18-20 minutes or until a tester toothpick comes out clean.
While the cake is baking, pour the lemon juice and sugar into a small saucepan and place over low heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar. When the cake is out of the oven and has cooled for about 4-5 minutes, carefully pour the hot syrup over the cake, allowing it to soak in. Cool in pan before removing and slicing.